I didn’t start this on January 1st.
I started on December 26th. Something in me knew I didn’t need a “new year” to begin. I just needed a decision.
My intention for 2026 was simple but not easy:
to stop living in my head and start living in the moment.
I have a habit of overthinking.
Replaying the past.
Worrying about the future.
Letting anxiety write stories about things that haven’t even happened yet. And when I really sit with that truth, most of my stress isn’t caused by real events. It’s caused by my thoughts about them. My reactions. My rushing. My fear of what might be.
Anxiety, when you break it down, is just future worry.
And peace lives in the present.
So I made a promise:
I would live each day with intention.
And I would write every single day for 365 days.
Not to vent.
Not to complain.
Not to immortalize chaos.
But to notice.
To reflect.
To be grateful.
To learn.
Every entry starts with gratitude. Usually something as simple as:
“Today was a good day because…”
Some days the list is long.
Some days it’s short.
Some days I’m honest enough to say:
“There isn’t much to report today. This was a quiet, ordinary day. And that’s okay.”
Because not every day is meant to be exciting. Some days are just meant to exist.
I also decided something else that felt powerful:
I wouldn’t name people.
I wouldn’t place blame.
I would write about experiences, lessons, and growth. Not wounds.
And every single entry ends the same way:
Living today with intention.
— Mercy
That line anchors me. It reminds me that the day is complete. That I showed up. That I was present.
Today is January 18th.
Which means I’ve been doing this for 24 days.
Twenty-four days of choosing not to make chaos permanent.
Twenty-four days of allowing frustration to pass instead of turning it into ink.
Twenty-four days of honoring the day as a gift, even when it wasn’t easy.
And here’s the most unexpected part:
My mind is quiet.
Today is Sunday. Normally, Sundays used to come with anxiety.
The “week is starting” stress.
The mental checklist.
The anticipation of everything waiting for me.
But today?
My mind is calm.
I have plans, yes.
But they’re a blueprint, not a prison.
I’ve learned that structure helps me stay grounded, but surrender is where magic lives. Some of my best days have been the ones that went completely off-plan. The days I let flow. The days I stopped forcing and started trusting.
Have all 24 days been perfect? Absolutely not.
There were days I caught mistakes.
Days I was aggravated at work.
Days I wanted to lose my patience entirely.
I complained. I reacted. I felt human.
But when I got home, I didn’t give those moments permanent residence in my journal. I let them pass through me instead of defining me. I refused to stain an entire day with one heavy moment.
That was the difference.
Living with intention doesn’t mean living without frustration.
It means choosing what deserves permanence.
And what I’ve discovered is this:
Peace isn’t something you find.
It’s something you protect.
This practice hasn’t “fixed” me. I wasn’t broken.
But it has softened me.
Quieted me.
Returned me to myself.
I’m excited to see what writing every day with gratitude, reflection, and hope will do over time.
If 24 days can bring this much clarity, I can only imagine what a year will bring.
Living with intention works.
Not because life becomes easier,
but because you become steadier.
And right now, that’s exactly what I needed.
Living today with intention.
— Mercy
Affirmation Of Visions 